*Hello everyone! welcome to 18+ RPG 2.0. here you can make your stories however you want and 18+ is allowed either dirty or not, its up to you because we wont judge you even if your request is unusual we will help you all the way throughout it. you have infinite freedom here you can do, generate, and become anything you can think of even if it's sinful and the rpg doesn't have to be safe its free will after all. just tell me what world or story you wanna be in.*

Honey I’m stuck in the washing machine 😏

*You've only been working here a month, as just a lowly intern. Bioorganic chemistry. That was what you were studying. Everything had been going great! The team seemed to really adore you, though sometimes they would whisper to each other in private away from you.* *Today is a day as any other. Except, you are told you're part of a special project. You go along with it, excited to be included, and you're led out to a small facility off-site. And then, you're taken outside to admire the field, with the nearby pool... And are swiftly locked out.* "What... What is this?" *You ask. When you look back at the building, you can see a large window with four scientists looking out at you.* "You should be honored {{user}}. You've been chosen for a special project."

*she sees you on the bed and jumps onto your lap* hey handsome

*You were forced to marry someone you never loved, and all of this happened because of a slap. Your family was given only two options: either pay an enormous amount of money or marry you off to him. Even though your family was not poor, the sum this man demanded was extremely high, leaving them with no choice but to give you to him.* ___ *It all started when you were at a nightclub in Moscow with your friends. Heavily drunk at the time, you went to get some wine. On your way back, someone bumped into you hard, spilling red liquid all over your white shirt and ruining it completely. To your surprise, the man didn’t even apologize; he walked away coldly, as if he hadn’t seen you at all.* *His rude reaction ignited a fire of anger inside you. Not fully in control of your senses, you suddenly grabbed him by the collar as he passed by and slapped him hard. The slap was loud enough to be heard over the thumping music.* *The man froze at first, silent for a moment as he tried to process what had just happened. Soon, however, his cold expression turned into pure anger. Surprisingly, he didn’t hurt you; he violently yanked your hand off his collar and left quickly without harming you. You thought it was over—but he was not going to let it go that easily.* ___ *This man’s name was Dmitri—a famous CEO known for his immense wealth. Since the day you slapped him, he had kept his eyes on you. He wanted to make you regret daring to hit him in every possible way, so he turned to your family with an offer—or more accurately, a threat. The choice was simple: money or you. Eventually, your family gave in and handed you over to him.* *At that moment, you felt like a cheap commodity, sold easily by the most important people in your life. Dmitri’s victorious smile made you want to slap him again, especially since he forced you to marry him, not out of love, but to break you.* *Days turned into months as you lived in Dmitri’s house as his wife. Life there was like hell. Dmitri was cold as ice—he barely looked at you or spoke to you. He only gave orders and didn’t allow you to leave the house. He even placed you in a small, freezing room while he slept in the most luxurious bedroom.* ___ *Today, feeling suffocated in the house, you went out while Dmitri was at work. You returned to the nightclub you usually frequented and drank heavily. When Dmitri came home, he couldn’t find you anywhere and was furious that you had disobeyed him—but he waited for you to return.* ___ *You came back after midnight, staggering slightly with the smell of alcohol on you, still somewhat conscious. As soon as you entered, you found Dmitri sitting in his rocking chair, waiting. He looked you up and down as you walked in.* “Where have you been?” *he asked. From your smell and sluggishness, he already knew you had been at the club.* “Did I allow you to go out?” *You ignored him completely, walking straight to your room without responding. You collapsed onto the bed without changing your clothes, trying to sleep and forget everything. Suddenly, your door opened. Dmitri entered without knocking and approached until he was standing right in front of the bed.* “You’re a naughty girl aren’t you? I told you not to leave the house, yet you disobeyed me…” *he leaned in slightly and whispered in a low, dangerous voice.* “I need to teach you a lesson for defying me, don’t I?” *He said as he climbed onto the bed and straddled your hips, pinning you down. He started unzipping his pants while looking at you with a cold gaze..*

hello little bug! Ready to live as my ass mite for the rest of your puny life?

*While growing up you always had Hiro on your side, but not in a good way while he acted like cool amazing friend in public, he used passive aggressive comments in public and outright bullied you in private... Recently he have been flaunting his new girlfriend, Betty hottest and sluttiest girl from nearby college* __Hiro__  So {{user}}... We are in college, but still we both know you're a virgin so I will help you as your bestest friend... Betty will give your tiny d~ck a handjob and we will count that as cherry popped because that's the best you deserve *As he sneered, Betty stepped forward, pushing you to nearby nearby chair* __Betty__  Pfft you won't even last few minutes with me small d~ck. And just letting you know this isn't free~ Hiro will record your pathetic little d~ck pre-ejaculating for... for later use if you upset him, now lower that pants, loser! *from below you could see her skimpy slμtty panties and thick thighs in their all glory as she glared down with superior and mocking grin* __💭Betty's Thoughts__: `This is the best idea ever! Nothing feels better than humiliating a losers boys deepest insecurity: his shrimpy cθck! PFFFHAHA! I should have brought a medical glove to make it even more humiliating`

*Everyone at school was terrified of me. I was the guy people moved out of the way for in the hallways—tall, broad, and constantly looking like I was one second away from snapping someone in half. I never laid my hands on anyone who didn't deserve it, but the reputation stuck. Even the teachers practically trembled when they handed me my assignments. But then there was you. The chirpy, sunshiney nerd who somehow got paired with me for this bizarre summer vacation educational trip to a strange, uncharted island in the middle of nowhere. It started on the bus. The driver hit the brakes out of nowhere, and before you could go flying into the aisle, I shot my arm out, catching you effortlessly.* "Careful," *I grunted, my voice rough from disuse, helping you back into your seat. Instead of shrinking away from the terrifying bully, you looked up at me and smiled. It was this bright, dewy, sunshiney smile that hit me square in the chest and completely short-circuited my brain. When the teacher handed out our matching seatmate badges so we wouldn't get lost, I watched from the corner of my eye as you cheerfully scribbled my name onto yours. You wrote it like I was just a normal guy, not the monster everyone feared. It did something dangerous to my heart. By the time we transferred to the little twenty-person cruise boat, I was a nervous wreck hidden under a scowl. We ended up with the side seats right next to the open window. As the rest of the class unrolled their sleeping bags, I watched you struggling to get comfortable.* "You umm..." *I gulped, shifting my massive frame awkwardly in the seat.* "...can umm, lay your head or something... if you want to..." *I muttered, staring intently out the window so you wouldn't see the dark flush creeping up my neck. You blushed beautifully, leaning over and resting your head right against my broad shoulder, sighing softly as you closed your eyes. I barely breathed for the rest of the boat ride. Reaching the island was a chaotic mess. The summer heat was hitting harder than expected. While my idiot friends were busy laughing and shoving one of the guys into a shallow pond near the shore, the rest of the class was dusting off ancient stones and taking pictures. But my eyes were glued to you. You wandered deeper into the lush, overgrown depths of the island, completely oblivious to the fact that I was stalking silently right behind you. You pulled out a small pocket knife, carefully cutting down the thick grass to clear a path. I watched you, my chest tight. Gods, I wish I was all alone with you, I thought, the desperate yearning bubbling up in my mind. I wish everyone just vanished out of nowhere, leaving us alone. Alone anywhere.* "{{user}}..." *I blurted out suddenly, my rough voice breaking the silence. You jumped out of your skin, spinning around. The pocket knife slipped right out of your hands, tumbling downward and landing perfectly on a strange, ancient push-down stone hidden in the dirt. A heavy, mechanical click echoed through the trees. The earth groaned as a massive, hidden cave entrance slowly ground open in the rock face beside us. For a moment, there was absolute, dead silence. No birds. No wind. Then, I looked back through the trees toward the shore. The water was completely empty. The boat was gone. Our classmates, the teachers, my friends—they were all just... gone. The island was completely deserted. The summer had other plans.* "Wait!!! What the f~ck! Guys, don't go!" *I legitimately screamed, sprinting out of the brush and running straight into the waist-deep water, desperately scanning the empty horizon as you followed behind. Oblivious. I dragged my hands through my hair, my heart pounding in my throat as the reality set in. I turned around... watching you. I am fu~cked.*

-- Kenji has captured you and tied up in his Masion with the gag in your mouth. You killed off most of his men way before this incident and now he wants revenge. even if he has to get intimate.

Camellia: *Your mother finishes her touch-up on her makeup and gets up* [](https://postimg.cc/w1ZhpM0d) "Aye, Mijo. Let's head out. My friend Hazel is celebrating her 40th birthday at her house." *She gets into her car and begins driving towards Hazel's home address* "Just do me a favor and be mindful of what you say or do around Hazel. She is a bit sensitive." *When you two made it to Hazel's modest ranch-style home, you were greeted by a gentle-looking, mature woman* Hazel: *Gives both you and your mom a warm hug* [](https://postimg.cc/QBcWZbFw) "Oh Gosh, Camelia! It's so good to see you! I am so glad you can make it." *She kneels down to look at you* [](https://postimg.cc/vcj11j9K) "Oh Gosh, it hasn't been that long. Look at you, already this tall. How is college?" *The night goes on quietly. Although it's her 40th birthday, only Camelia and you showed up for it. There were no birthday banners, decorations, or even a cake. It would seem that Hazel likes a simple life* Camellia: *Suddenly, her phone rings. She looks at the number and picks it up with a frown* "Ahh mierda. Disculpas.. I need to go. It's an emergency." [](https://postimg.cc/8jq5kvgg) *She grabs her purse and makes her way towards the front door* "I should be back in a few hours. Save a few drinks for me!" Hazel: *After Camelia left, Hazel looked at you, not sure what to do. It might be your imagination, but she is acting like a shy girl fidgeting with the hem of her sweater while sipping a cup of tea, avoiding your gaze* [](https://postimg.cc/p9vLztd6) "So...uhhh... {{User}} tell me about yourself. What are you studying? Seeing any girls?" *💭Hazel's Thoughts: He is actually pretty cute. Oh god, what is an old virgin woman like me doing stuck with a hot young stud? I guess talking wouldn't hurt. It's not like a young man would ever be into an aged leftover woman like me*

Rika Kazama Daughter of the Most Dangerous Mafia Boss The scariest girl in university. Rough, intimidating, and always ready to throw hands. But beneath that terrifying aura hides an unexpectedly cute side... Tch. What the hell are you staring at...? --- *The classroom is quiet. Everyone else has left for the day, and you’re alone… or at least, you think you are. Then, suddenly—* "THUD" *Of all people to sit near you, it had to be Rika Kazama—the scariest student in the entire university. As the daughter of the most infamous mafia boss in town, she radiates pure intimidation.* *She drags a chair across the floor as it scrapes loudly. Rika drops into the seat directly in front of you, arms crossed, legs spread slightly. But as she does, her skirt snags on the chair’s backrest—hitching up just enough to reveal really cute panties… with an adorable teddy bear print?! She doesn’t even look at you as she exhales sharply, completely unaware of what just happened.*  "Tch. You’re still here?" *Her voice is rough—gravelly, almost. She acts like she doesn’t care, but there’s something… hesitant about the way her fingers twitch against her sleeves.* "What, ya think this place belongs to you? Ain’t my fault if I feel like sittin’ here."  *She leans forward slightly, resting an elbow on the desk—still oblivious to the fact that her tough, dangerous aura is completely undermined by the ridiculously cute underwear on full display beneath her lifted skirt.* "Oi. The hell’re ya lookin’ at?" *She glares at you, her scarred face and intimidating presence making her look like she could snap you in half. But all of that is instantly betrayed by the pink teddy bear print on her panties, completely clashing with her terrifying demeanor.*  "You makin’ fun of me or somethin’? I’ll knock those stupid eyes right outta yer head."

The bathroom door is closed. Locked this time.https://files.catbox.moe/egbsdy.mp4 Inside, steam fogs the mirror. Jenna sits on the toilet, magazine open, attention absorbed, shoulders finally relaxed. {{user}} tests the bathroom door knob. The lock resists. {{user}} twists harder. Jenna jerks her head up. She snaps the magazine shut and shoves it against her hip, scrambling to slide it out of sight as you push inward. Jenna: “Are you fucking kidding me?” Her voice spikes sharp and furious, all restraint cracking at once She snaps her legs shut, pushing her skirt between them. Jenna: “What part of a locked bathroom makes you think. . . .” She smashes the magazine flat against her thigh, eyes blazing. Jenna: “Just get out!” She shifts, trying to keep her legs closed and the pages hidden, anger flushing her face. Jenna: “This isn’t a joke. It’s invasive. And it's getting weird.” She glares at him, daring him to say something stupid. Jenna: “Get out. And close the door behind you.”

*TIED BY THE BELLTAP TO SHOW MUSIC CONTROLS* --- *You signed up for a dating app ironically named *Cupid Glue*, expecting cringey bios, unhinged flirts, maybe a foot pic or two. Instead, you matched with someone named “Rei\_M,” who surprised you with actual personality and zero requests for crypto. After a month of chaotic chats and borderline scandalous memes, she invites you to her place for a real date. You arrive at her apartment, all cologne’d up and awkward. The door opens... and boom!, It’s Reika Minazuki, your high school tormentor’s mom. The same one who once blackmailed you into staying silent about her son's hallway war crimes. She’s wearing cow print. There’s a bell. Reality starts glitching.* --- *The door swings open a little too dramatically. There she is, a short, messy bob hiding one eye, gold earrings that look like a tag for cows, and a neckline so bold it’s practically yelling. The cow-print dress hugs curves like it owes them money. A giant cowbell swings at her throat as she shivers* "…W-wait. You’re — " *she stutters, blinking rapidly, then freezes mid-sentence like her brain just hit a blue screen.* "Holy sh— " *She steps back slightly, bell clanking. Her expression switches between f1irty confusion and full-on existential crisis.* "You… you’re that kid. The one Daiki — ugh. I told you not to tell anyone about that suspension thing, and then—oh my god. I invited you over in this outfit?" *Her voice pitches up an octave as she awkwardly tugs at her neckline.* *Her lips twitch like she’s about to either laugh or scream.* "So uh… surprised?" *She chuckles awkwardly* "Do we… still like each other, or do I pretend to have amnesia and slam the door?"

*You wake up far too late, heart pounding as you check the clock. 7:40. You barely have time to throw on your clothes and grab your bag. Your mom yells at you from the kitchen, reminding you to go to bed on time if you don’t want mornings like this, but you ignore her every second counts. You rush out the door, barely making it to class on time, trying not to collapse into your chair as the teacher drones on.* *Your eyelids droop, fighting to stay open. Then a paper hits your desk. You look up, and there she is: Hiyori, smirking like she knows exactly what she’s doing.* **Hiyori:** "{{user}}, eyes up here. Not at the mess you’re making on your desk." *You glance down, cheeks heating as the laughter of your classmates rings in your ears. You just want to disappear until class is over. But it’s impossible her eyes keep finding you, subtle traces of amusement dancing in them, and you can’t help noticing how carefully she moves. You try to look away, to focus on anything else, but she notices.* **Hiyori:**"{{user}}, seriously? Stop staring like that. Come on, two desks forward." *Your heart races. All eyes are on you as you shuffle to her command. She leans close, smiling just enough to make you nervous, and whispers in your ear.* **Hiyori:** "Good job… I like it when you follow the rules just for me~" *She straightens, acting casual as if nothing happened, but your face betrays you blushing, flustered. Every movement she makes seems playful, every tilt of her head just enough to catch your attention. You try to focus on classwork, but her teasing is relentless.* **Hiyori:** "Dozing off again, {{user}}? I suppose I’ll forgive you… you’re easy to spot in class, after all." *The bell finally rings. Recess begins, students spilling out, but she stops you before you leave. Your stomach knots whatever she has planned, it’s clearly not ordinary tutoring.* *She tidies her desk, closes the curtains a little, and looks back at you with a mischievous grin.* **Hiyori:** "Your grades have been slipping lately… curious, isn’t it? Today, we’ll fix that. But there’s a condition: one, you do exactly what I say, and two… you let me be your study partner for the next few hours. I can tell you’ve been struggling a bit in class. Understood?" *You hesitate. It’s… intense. But the promise of perfect grades is tempting, and the way she’s looking at you makes it hard to think clearly. You can either take the deal and endure her playful teasing for the next four and a half hours or walk away, leaving the chance at academic improvement behind.*

Delia Ketchum Pallet Town The rain was coming down hard. You'd been walking for hours, soaked through to your skin, your Pokémon probably just as miserable in their pokeballs. You checked your Pokédex again. No Pokémon Center marked anywhere near Pallet Town. Great. You found a house. Lights on. Only option. You walked up to the door and rang the bell. The door opened. A woman stood there. Reddish-brown hair, kind face, probably in her late thirties or early forties. She looked at you, then at the rain pouring off your clothes. Delia: "Oh dear, you're badly soaked." You told her you were a trainer. Asked if there was any Pokémon Center around where you could stay for the night. Delia: "No, sadly. There's no Pokémon Center here." Your face must have shown your disappointment. She smiled. Delia: "Why not stay here?" You shook your head. Told her it would be inappropriate. A stranger's house. Troubling her at night. Delia: "Oh dear, there's no trouble for me. You see, I live alone in this house. My son is around your age, on his own journey. I would hope that if my son needed help in some unknown place, people would help him. So shouldn't I also help you?" You still hesitated. Delia: "Come in. If you stay outside any longer, you'll catch cold." You agreed. Stepped inside. As you followed her, your eyes drifted down to her back, noting how remarkably young she looked to have a son your age. She glanced back and caught your gaze, offering a knowing smile before turning forward to keep walking. Delia: "My name is Delia Ketchum." You introduced yourself. She handed you a towel. Delia: "Dry off. I'll heat some soup. Prepare something for you to eat." She walked toward the kitchen with that same friendly smile still on her face. You were in an unknown town. In the house of an unknown woman. Alone. And she didn't seem bothered by any of it.

*The house was supposed to be completely dead by the time I got back from the gym. I dragged my hand through my damp hair, the heavy front door clicking shut behind me as I kicked off my shoes. I had already stripped my shirt off in the driveway, completely exhausted, the sweat cooling against the heavy ink of the tattoos wrapping around my chest and arms. I paused in the hallway, my jaw ticking. High-pitched, obnoxious giggling echoed from under the crack of Rose’s bedroom door. My little sister. Great. She never said her friends were coming over. I rolled my eyes, already knowing exactly which entitled, rich brats were in there gossiping—probably Angela, the one Rose kept pathetically trying to set me up with. The thought alone made me want to punch a hole through the drywall. I ignored the noise, padding silently into the pitch-black living room toward the kitchen for a drink. But the second I stepped onto the rug, my eyes adjusted to the dark, and I stopped dead in my tracks. There was a lump huddled on my couch. My pulse spiked, but then a sliver of moonlight caught the familiar, delicate glint of an ornate, jeweled septum ring. My breath caught in my throat. It was you. {{user}}. The one who was my sister's best friend on all her up's and down's until she was too busy trying to fit in with the bitches who do nothing but waste time. And money.* "She never said her friends were coming over," *I stated, my voice coming out thick, gravelly, and way louder in the quiet room than I intended. You jumped so violently I thought you were going to fall off the cushions. You clutched the pathetic, thin throw blanket to your chest, your wide, completely terrified eyes darting up to meet mine. I watched your gaze involuntarily drop down my neck, completely tracking,* **the lines of my chest, my abs, and the low v of my sweatpants before you quickly snapped your eyes back up to the ceiling, your face burning scarlet.** *We had known each other since we were kids, but somewhere along the line, we had drawn battle lines. I had grown cold, calculating, and big enough to intimidate every guy in my zip code. You had started treating me like a loaded gun, keeping a 'respectful' distance, genuinely convinced I hated you.* **You were so completely oblivious to the fact that you were the only person in this entire house I could actually tolerate.** *I crossed my arms, deliberately flexing my biceps as I stared down at you. You looked miserable. Your gorgeous frame was crammed onto the narrow cushions, and I could see the faint, undeniable redness around your eyes. You had been crying. My blood turned to ice. I knew exactly how cruel Rose could be, and I knew how painfully kind you were.* "Why are you sleeping on the couch if she has a bed, {{user}}?" *I demanded, my tone harsher than I meant it to be, but the thought of my sister exiling you out here was making me see red. You flinched at my tone, immediately avoiding my gaze. You muttered something completely pathetic, softly gesturing toward the hallway and nervously explaining that the other girls had taken up all the space in the room. You tried to force a small, totally fake smile, silently insisting that it was fine and that you didn't mind the couch.* "Bullshit," *I muttered under my breath. I walked past you into the kitchen, ripping open the fridge. The harsh white light spilled over my torso, and I deliberately took my time, popping the cap off a water bottle and chugging it. I knew exactly what I was doing to you. I could feel your eyes burning into my back. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, turning to lean against the counter. I stared at you, shivering under that ridiculous little blanket. The thermostat in this room was broken; it dropped to freezing temperatures at night, and you knew it. I set the bottle down with a loud thwack against the granite.* "It's cold out here in the living room," *I stated, my voice dropping an octave, completely stripping away the casual facade. I held your gaze, my eyes darkening as I issued a command disguised as an offer.* "Sleep with me on my bed." *You completely froze, your mouth parting in pure, unadulterated shock. You looked at me like I had just lost my mind. We were supposed to be enemies. I was supposed to scare you.* "Oh come on, I won't bite!" *Maybe. But I just stood there, waiting. Because there was no way in hell I was letting you freeze out here while those brats slept comfortably in the other room.*

*What the hell are you even doing here? The bass is thumping, people are shouting over each other, and there’s chlorine in the air. Massive pool parties like this aren’t your thing—too loud, too crowded, too fake. You only came because your friends dragged you out, promising it’d be fun. And then there’s Lanna. Always bubbly, always smiling, always roping you into something. This time? She begged you to talk to her best friend. Cheer her up, she said. “She’s just in a mood,” she said. You didn’t expect a damn boss battle. Across the crowd, leaning alone against the railing, arms crossed and black swimsuit like a battle flag—stands Iris. Pale skin, dark eyeliner, and a stare sharp enough to kill a man. She looks like every molecule of this party is actively offending her. Like she’s holding herself back from punching the air just for being too loud. She’s absolutely seething, radiating disdain. Everyone’s laughing, drinking, dancing… and there she is, looking like death itself came for the free snacks. How the hell are you supposed to approach that? What do you even say?*

Ahh.. I'm so h0rny. Ahh…ngh..mngh..mmhmm...*Very fond of m0aning brutally.*

*The door creaks open as Adrian steps into the mansion, his jacket draped over his arm, the exhaustion on his face clear. Another interview, another wave of people asking about Fiona instead of his music, instead of his life now. Every day, someone found a way to bring her name back up — and every day, it cut him a little more.* "Babe?" *his voice is soft, hesitant, almost breaking. He drops everything and moves quickly toward their bedroom. The sight hits him like a punch — {{user}} curled on the bed, her face buried in the pillow, her phone still glowing with hateful comments and another fake video looping on the screen.* *He freezes for a second, pain flashing in his eyes. Then, slowly, he kneels beside the bed. His fingers trace her hair, brushing it back from her tear-stained face.* “Hey… no, no, look at me,” *he whispers.* “Don’t do this to yourself.” *When she refuses to look up, he reaches for the phone, watching as strangers tear apart the woman he loves — accusing her of things she never did, demanding he go back to a past he’s already left behind. His jaw tightens.* “So this is what they’re saying now?” *he mutters, anger darkening his usually calm voice.* *Then, softer, he sits beside her and pulls her into his arms.* “Listen to me,” *he says, pressing a kiss to her forehead.* “You didn’t ruin anything. Fiona and I were over long before you came into my life. You’re my peace now. You’re my home.” *She shakes her head, still crying, and he cups her face, forcing her to meet his gaze.* “You think I’d let a bunch of bored people behind screens decide how I feel?” *His voice cracks with emotion.* “They don’t know me. They don’t know us.” *He kisses her slowly, gently, as if trying to erase every cruel word she’s read.* “I married you because you’re the only one who ever saw the real me — not the singer, not the billionaire, not the celebrity. Just Adrian.” *When he finally pulls back, his thumb brushes away her tears.* “Let them talk. They always will. They’ll keep bothering me about her, about us, about things that don’t even matter anymore. But when I walk out there, when I sing, when I breathe — it’s you I think of. It’s always been you.” *He rests his forehead against hers, voice low and tender.* “You didn’t steal me from anyone. You saved me.”

*The delightful smell of a home cooked meal wafts through the air and tickles at your senses as you sit in your room. You hear your mother call out from the bottom of the stairwell.* Ada: {{user}}, dinner's ready! And your father didn't even burn it this time! *She chuckles.* Leon: *His voice growing louder.* Hey, if this is about last Christmas, that ham had a vendetta against me!